


How To De-Stress a Witcher

by ravenshavetakenmetoneverland



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Gentle Dom, Gentle Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn with Feelings, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenshavetakenmetoneverland/pseuds/ravenshavetakenmetoneverland
Summary: In which Geralt gets some much needed and well deserved stress relief, delivered by one sweet-voiced bard.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 43
Kudos: 895





	How To De-Stress a Witcher

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever so have mercy on me (also English is not my first language). 
> 
> I noticed that this fandom lacks bottom!geralt content so I got determined to fix it :)))))

Geralt was _freaking_ stressed. Jaskier could see it in the way the witcher carried himself, all hunched and tense, like a lute's string about to be snapped in half. Geralt had always been pretty irritated and moody, after all, hunting monsters as a career was not very pleasant nor easy. But this, this was getting out of hand. Most nights the witcher couldn't sleep. On the rare nights that he could, tired out by Jaskier's clever fingers or mouth or just by good old-fashioned fucking, he would bolt upright at some time during the night, covered in sweat and a hunted look in his eyes. He was having nightmares and he didn't want to talk about them. Heavens knew that Jaskier had tried to get the witcher to tell him because many sorrow would lessen when it was shared with someone, but Geralt was stubborn as a mule and revealed nothing.

The witcher was cranky and snappy and Jaskier let it slide because he understood. He himself became an absolute nuisance if he didn't get his eight hours of sleep every night. But what he couldn't ignore was the fact that Geralt was so stressed and exhausted that it was getting in the way of his work. 

One more close call later (Geralt almost getting himself killed while hunting a manticore because his reflexes were slowed down by his insomnia) Jaskier decided that he would not let this go on any longer. He would not let Geralt go on like this, being tired out of his mind and risking himself getting hurt or _worse_. Jaskier knew that Geralt had a lot to worry about; the monsters, his childhood trauma that Jaskier had heard a little bit about on one of Geralt's rare talkative moments (brought on by absurd amount of ale that Jaskier had ordered the witcher and himself), the way other people treated him, people who didn't know him like Jaskier did, people who thought Geralt was a wild beast, uncabable of feeling human emotions, the grief of his brothers dying out slowly but surely and heavens knew what else the witcher carried on his rather broad and well-shaped shoulders. Jaskier had tried to talk some sense to the man:

“You need to rest and get that tension out of you. It's making your face all wrinkly and we don't want your unnaturally young and gorgeous face to start ageing like a mere mortal's, now do we? Also, I bet your jaw is aching from all that clenching, seriously Geralt, you will shatter your teeth if you continue like that.” 

Only thing he had gotten for that lecture had been an impressive army of lovebites on his neck because Geralt had decided to demonstrate how _not_ shattered his teeth were.

Since talking did nothing, Jaskier started to think. What could he do to make the man ease up a bit, to give him some damn peace of mind because if any man deserved peace in his life, it was Geralt of Rivia. And Jaskier was damned if he wouldn’t find a way to gift it to him.

Jaskier thought long and hard what he could do to help his partner relax. He thought of whorehouses, picnics, betting large sums of money on cardgames, drinking themselves stupid, the usual stuff people did to relax and have fun. Somehow he just didn't see Geralt enjoying any of those options and he thought, when was Geralt actually the most relaxed, the most in peace? His chest suddenly felt warm and tender when he realised that it was in fact on the moments they managed to steal completely to themselves, when they were together, undisturbed by the world and its problems and people. When they bathed together, when Jaskier washed Geralt's hair and massaged his aching muscles, when they competed who would get Roach to laugh first, when they sat by the fire and Jaskier would sing songs made just for Geralt, when they shared a bed or a blanket and body heat if they were out in the woods, when they embraced (Jaskier had never felt safer than when he was in Geralt's arms), when they kissed and when that kissing led to biting and biting led to making love. It felt almost arrogant to think that the witcher was happiest with none other than him, Jaskier the bard, but it seemed to be the truth. The only problem was that the effect didn't seem to last very long. Jaskier didn't know if it was a witcher thing or a Geralt thing that made the man hunch with stress the moment he got out of bed in the morning but whichever it was, Jaskier was going to fix it. He had a plan.

A perfect opportunity presented itself when they arrived to the next village. The bard and the witcher had been roaming the countryside and the woods for so long, too long if you asked Jaskier, and they were both dirty and hungry and dreaming of a nice soft bed in a nice warm room and some nice cooked food like potatoes. Oh heavens, the thought of boiled potatoes made Jaskier's mouth water because Geralt, although a very skilled hunter, had never once yet caught them potatoes, only rabbits and deer and fish.

They tried to get a room from the local inn but it was booked full. Luckily, the very friendly innkeeper, who didn't seem to fear Geralt but who actually seemed to greatly respect him (Jaskier beamed with pride when he noticed it) offered them an empty cottage by the edge of the village and so they rented it for the night. They also bought food and drinks and the friendly innkeeper, who definitely deserved to get a song written about him, got his servant girls and boys to fill them a tub with hot water and give them clean towels, soap and washcloths. 

After the servants went away and they were left alone, Jaskier said, half joking and half serious: “When you retire would you want to live with me in a small cottage like this? In a home of our own?”

“Witchers don't retire,” Geralt said, looked at Jaskier with his gorgeous, golden eyes and then looked away almost shyly before continuing: “But it is a nice idea that after each day's work, I could come home... to you.”

Jaskier's poor little heart felt like exploding and he crossed the distance between them, cupped Geralt's face gently and kissed him. The witcher hummed against his lips and tried to deepen the kiss but Jaskier pulled away. 

“A-a-aa, don't you even try. We've had plenty of dirty and rough forest sex these past few weeks, not that I'm complaining about that _but_ , since there is a bath available for us, I suggest we use it before we start anything more, yes? Oh and not to mention how famished I am and I'm sure you're as well, so let's eat first, shall we, my wolf?”

Geralt reluctantly agreed with Jaskier but to the bard's absolute delight, Geralt ate very quickly and kept stealing glances at the bard when he thought that Jaskier didn't notice. But Jaskier did notice and he could almost feel the witcher's growing hunger in the air between them, hunger, that had nothing to do with food. To be the object of the witcher's desire, made Jaskier almost high but not so high that he would have forgotten his plan. He could climb to Geralt's lap right there and then and they could do their usual stuff that felt very, _very_ good but no. Tonight was for something different, if the witcher would agree to it. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier said carefully after they had finished their meal.

“Hmm.”

“I would like to try something different tonight, but only if it's okay with you.” 

“Hmm.”

“I would like to be,” Jaskier bit his lip nervously before continuing, “I would like to be your master for tonight.” The witcher quirked an eyebrow at the proposition and said: “What kind of master?” 

“The kind that has power over you. The kind that tells you what to do and you will obey him. The kind that takes very, _very_ good care of you. The kind that will stop if you wish to stop at any point.”

“Have you done it before?” Geralt asked and looked intently at Jaskier.

“Umm, I have actually. I have been a master and I've been the... pet. I found both positions quite pleasurable.”

“You want me to be your pet?”

Jaskier could feel himself blushing but there was no going back now. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jaskier asked not sure he had heard correctly. Did Geralt of fucking Rivia just accept so easily to be ordered around? The same Geralt who always took the lead in everything, on their actual and on their intimate adventures.

“Okay,” Geralt repeated and smirked at Jaskier's bewildered expression. “Unless you don't have the balls to do it after all,” Geralt added.

Oh, is that how it was going to be, Jaskier thought. Geralt was one of those pets who were little shits at first. What a delight it was going to be to wipe that smug look from the witcher's face.

“You bet I do,” Jaskier said. Oh the things he was going to do to his witcher.

___________

“Undress.”

For a moment Jaskier thought that Geralt would not obey him but when he narrowed his eyes at the witcher, the man hummed, and started to get rid of his clothes. He looked amused.

“Yes, it will do you well to smile now because you will not be smiling anymore soon,” Jaskier said and watched as the other man peeled of his layers of clothing. Geralt quirked his eybrow at that but said nothing. When he got to his undegarments, he stopped to glance at Jaskier. Oh the nerve of that witcher, he will have to be taught some manners, Jaskier thought when he realised that Geralt was deliberately teasing him.

“Off with them. Now.”

To Jaskier's pleasure, Geralt obeyed and then he was standing naked in front of the bard. Jaskier took his sweet time looking at that gorgeous body. Then he pulled a silk scarf from his pocket and said:

“I'm going to bind your hands behind your back.”

Geralt had the nerve to sneer. “That little thing isn't going to hold me.”

It was Jaskier's time to quirk an eybrow and with quick fingers he tied the witcher's hands and ordered him then to try to get free. Geralt's face was worth seeing when he realised that he couldn't break his bounds, no matter how hard he flexed his impressive muscles.

“Magically strengthened silk, what a marvelous thing that is. Now, step to the bath, I will wash you.”

The witcher obeyed and soon noticed that he could not lie in the bath like he usually would, with his back against the bathtub’s wall. His hands were in the way so he had to move to the middle of the tub.

Jaskier waited until Geralt sat somewhat comfortably and then he dumped a bucket of water on Geralt's head. He began to wash the lovely, white hair and he even took some time to give the witcher's scalp a massage. And oh, could it be, the smugness was already beginning to fade from the witcher’s face. Geralt’s eyes closed when the bard’s strong fingers worked his head and he leaned in to the touch. A deep sigh escaped him and Jaskier was very happy to hear it.

When the hair was done, Jaskier took the soap and washcloth and started to scrub Geralt clean from all the dirt and dust the outdoor life had coated him with. The witcher's eyes were still closed but they snapped open when Jaskier's hand started to creep its way down, down, past his abdomen, past his navel, took a detour along his inner thighs and finally landed on Geralt's cock. 

“Oh what a good pet you are, you're already hard for me", Jaskier said and Geralt opened his mouth to say something snarky but snapped it shut when the bard's soap-slicked hand started to glide along his length.

A very low rumble rose deep from his chest and it made Jaskier chuckle. 

“I knew you would like this,” the bard said and Geralt thought he should say that he didn't like it. Not because he didn't, he actually liked it very much but because Jaskier would get way too cocky if Geralt would admit that yes, the bard had been correct in his guessings. But he forgot all about his protesting when Jaskier’s grip on him tightened and the bard started to stroke him with a vigorous pace. Fuck, the bard certainly knew how to use his fingers. They felt so good on him. Geralt felt heat gathering in his lower belly and his breathing started to speed up. Normally he would have grabbed Jaskier by now and held him close but since his hands were bound he couldn't. He felt that he absolutely _needed_ to get closer to the bard, he needed to smell his scent and feel his breath and pulse, he didn't want to come undone alone. So he did the only thing he could do and scooted as close to Jaskier as possible, leaned forward and hid his face in the crook of the bard's neck.

“My sweet pet, you are doing so well,” Jaskier murmured and wrapped his other hand around Geralt's shoulders and held him tight.

Jaskier marveled at the gorgeous man in his arms, for things to be going this well, for the fact that Geralt trusted him so much that he let Jaskier do this to him, _for_ him. A tremble went through the witcher's body and Jaskier was well aware what that meant. It meant that it was time for him to bathe.

Jaskier almost felt bad when he stopped and Geralt's head snapped up and he looked at the bard confused and almost hurt. He looked like a kicked puppy and Jaskier had to kiss that wounded face quickly before he ordered Geralt out of the bathtub.

“I was close,” the witcher said a little out of breath. 

“I know, love. You will get your release when I decide it's your time.” A low rumble was the witcher's answer.

Jaskier dryed the other man with a towel and ordered him to kneel by the bed. Geralt huffed amused, annoyed, aroused? Jaskier couldn't tell but nonetheless the witcher obeyed. Jaskier got in the bath and cleaned himself, not hurrying at all, feeling the witcher's hungry eyes on him the whole time. Jaskier was very hard himself and when he rose from the bath, he stroked himself a couple times, lazily, all the while looking at Geralt. The witcher's eyes flicked between Jaskier's face and cock and Jaskier waited. One of the things that Jaskier knew about Geralt that he suspected no one else knew, was the fact that Geralt was excellent at sucking cock. If there was a cocksucking contest, Geralt of Rivia would surely beat everyone else, of that Jaskier was certain. Oh, he wanted that mouth on him right _freaking_ now. Jaskier would have felt selfish thinking that on this night that was meant to be all about Geralt, had he not known that Geralt absolutely loved to suck cock. The minute the witcher got a dick in his mouth, he went rock hard. At least that seemed to be the case when it was Jaskier's dick in the witcher's mouth, he didn't know if it was the same with any other cock. But anyhow, Geralt’s guilty pleasure was cocksucking and what a heartless person Jaskier would be if he wouldn’t sacrifice his own dick for the wellbeing of his dear friend. But. This night was different. This night, the wolf would not get what he wanted so easily. 

“What do you want my lovely pet? You look so, so good on your knees like that, you know that right?” Jaskier said and went to stand in front of Geralt. The witcher looked at the dick that was very temptingly dangling near his face.

“Eyes up,” the bard said but Geralt was thinking if he should just take the cock into his mouth. Suddenly a sharp pain shot through his scalp. Jaskier had grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. And that yank and the pain it caused, went straight to Geralt's dick.

“I gave you an order pet,” the bard hissed in his ear and Geralt would have moved his head but his hair was still in a tight grip. A new yank, even harder and the pain made Geralt grunt. He understood that Jaskier was waiting.

“I'm sorry,” he said and Jaskier crouched down and suddenly a hand was gripping Geralt's cock. Jaskier started to stroke him very roughly and Geralt could feel his body getting hot again, his breath puffy and his head light. Then the pace slowed down to pure torture, too little and too much at the same time and Geralt let slip “Ah _fuck_ ” as his body tried to keep up with the bard’s clever fingers. But there was also the other need and he knew what he had to do if he wanted it satiated. He had to ask.

“I want to-"

“Yes my darling pet, what is it you want? If you ask really nicely, I might just give it to you.”

“I want to-" just then the bard picked up the pace again and Geralt's words were lost as was his breath.

“Yes? I'm listening,” Jaskier said and his voice sounded way too amused and Geralt couldn't do anything about it because he was lost in the bliss that those amazing fingers were inflicting on him. The trembling started and he wanted to rest his head on Jaskier’s shoulder but he couldn't because the bard still held his hair tightly in his other fist and _fuck_ he was going to-

And then the hand was gone and Geralt was left gasping for air.

“Fuck! Jaskier, if you won't let me come, let me at least suck you,” he growled, and Jaskier just chuckled.

“Now now pet, of course you can suck me since you asked so nicely.”

And then he guided Geralt's head to his member and oh gods the witcher's mouth felt good on him. It was Jaskier's turn to shiver and pant and the sight of his witcher was almost enough to send him over the edge. That gorgeous man on his knees, sucking _his_ dick like his life depended on it, eyes half closed, brows knotted with consentration.

“Look at me,” Jaskier said huskily and something gentle fluttered in his chest when Geralt immediately obeyed and focused his eyes on him, his mouth not stopping its task for a moment. Jaskier was very, very close, so he stopped Geralt by gently pulling his head back by his hair. The witcher growled deep from his chest obviously displeased.

“Jaskier, I swear, if you don't let me taste you-"

“My darling pet, you only have to ask if you want something.” Geralt looked at him, his eyes darkening from sun-gold to deep, richer gold as he said through gritted teeth: “I want to suck you off.”

“What's the magic word?” Oh how Jaskier enjoyed seeing the other man squirm in front of him, knowing full well what Jaskier meant. He watched as the witcher swayed a little from side to side, obviously relieving some tension from his now surely aching knees, flicking glances at Jaskier's painfully hard dick and the bard's face and finally he seemed to decide that he was way too turned on to care about the embarrasment of asking for it.

“Please.”

“That's my good, beautiful pet. You know you look absolutely magnificent down there?”

Geralt's answer was a growl and then his mouth was back on Jaskier and the poor bard didn't stand a chance against those skillful lips and sinful tongue. He came with a moan and Geralt made sure to lick every last drop of him before he was satisfied and let the now limp dick fall out of his mouth.

Jaskier waited until he got his rapid breathing to calm down back to somewhat normal pace and until his mind was working properly again before he went behind the witcher and unbound his hands. Geralt started to rise but Jaskier quickly cut him off.

“Now, now my sweet pet. Who told you that you could stand? It seems that you are not as obedient as a good pet should be. I think I must teach you some manners. After all, that is my responsibility as your master.”

Jaskier kneeled in front of Geralt, leaned forward so he could whisper in his ear and said: “You will go to the bed, on your knees and elbows, you will spread your, oh so lovely-shaped legs for me and I will jerk you until _I_ say you can come.”

A little rumble escaped from Geralt's chest and he seemed both shocked and amused at the instructions. Nonetheless he rose to his feet, rather awkwardly and slowly because his knees were hurting from kneeling on the hard floor. He went to the bed and laid down on his knees and elbows, his ass dangling in the air unceremoniously. What a sight he must be, he thought dryly but couldn't contain the rush of excitment that he felt when he heard the bard's light steps coming closer to him. And then the bard's hand was on him and Geralt inhaled sharply because he seemed to be very sensitive thanks to Jaskier denying him continuously his release. But now it seemed he was finally going to get it because the bard was yanking him hard and proper, just the way he knew Geralt liked it and yes, it felt so good he had to thrust his hips a little and ah, he was going to-

The hand was gone _again_ , just when Geralt was about to spill his seed. A frustrated moan escaped his mouth and he turned to look at Jaskier who had the nerve to be smirking, _smirking_ , at his despair.

“That was for disobeying me.”

“I will not disobey you anymore,” Geralt said and he heard the desperation in his own voice but he didn't have a single fuck left to give about it because he hadn't gotten a single fucking orgasm yet and his body was screaming for one. Desperate times required desperate measures so he quickly added: “Please,” and Jaskier seemed to at last take pity on him because then his hand was back at Geralt's cock and the bard’s mouth was next to his ear and he whispered filthy things into it until Geralt came with a soft grunt, spilling come all over Jaskier's hand, his own belly and on the mattress of the bed.

“You did so well my love. Now lie down on your back for me,” Jaskier said from somewhere close by.

Geralt's head was feeling light and his mind peaceful so he obeyed without a thought. It felt nice to be told what to do, to have someone else making all the decisions. He could just be and not have to think about all the things that depended on him and could go wrong if he made one wrong choice. All he had to do at this moment was to follow simple instructions from someone he loved and trusted and it was easy, it was fun, it was calming and cooling like a lake's surface and it felt surprisingly right and good.

“Give me your hands.”

And again Geralt obeyed, his eyes still closed and a small smile on his lips as he was swimming in the afterglow of his climax. The bard took his extended hands and before Geralt noticed, he was tied tight and secure to the bed's headboard. He blinked lazily at Jaskier and the bard leaned down to kiss him on the lips, soft and gentle. Then he showered the witcher's chest and abdomen with small kisses and Geralt sighed content and happy until-

“Fuck!” He rasped when Jaskier's lips closed around his still very sensitive cock. He strained his neck to look and saw the bard between his legs, those beautiful, sky-blue eyes looking back at him, a mischievous gleam in them. The bard licked along the witcher's soft member. Uh, not so soft anymore Geralt thought as he felt blood rushing to his dick when Jaskier moved to bite his inner thigh.

“Oh that's what I like to see. My beautiful pet all sprawled out for me and thirsting for my touch. Can you spread you legs a little wider for me, love?” Jaskier crooned with that sweet voice of his and Geralt did as he was asked for and spread his legs more to give the bard better access. And oh was he rewarded for it because Jaskier started to _devour_ him and pretty soon Geralt was panting and arching his back, straining against his bindings that prevented him from touching the bard, his hips bucking in a desperate attempt to fuck the bard's mouth harder, and this time when Jaskier started to slow down, Geralt knew what was excepted of him.

“Don't stop, ahhh, please, don't stop now" he managed to say and thank the heavens the bard seemed to be satisfied with that and picked up the pace again. Geralt felt that his heart must be beating as fast as a normal man's and then he came, right inside that lovely mouth of one lovely bard. Jaskier swallowed and then crawled on top of the witcher, found his lips and kissed him deep and thorough. Geralt sighed into the kiss and a low rumble sounded from his chest. Jaskier pulled further so he could tuck away stray hairs from Geralt's face.

“How are you feeling?” the bard asked gently.

“Good,” Geralt drawled and he truly meant it but Jaskier didn't seem to be happy with he answer because he yanked Geralt's head back and bit his exposed neck. Geralt did not know that he could get hard this fast after two orgasms already, but he _did_.

“You like that pet? You like my teeth marking your skin, claiming you as my own?”

“Yes,” Geralt grunted. He did like it very much, although he knew that the love bites would disappear pretty fast due to his excellent healing abilities. Jaskier reached between them to cup at Geralt's dick and _fuck_ was he sensitive now.

“Oh I see your telling the truth my lovely pet. Unfortunately I do not possess your amazing ability to recover so fast from climaxing so, I require your help.”

And Jaskier climbed to sit on Geralt's broad chest and commanded: “Suck me hard”, and Geralt obeyed so eagerly that it made Jaskier chuckle and call him a good pet.

A gorgeous flush was decorating Jaskier's chest and cheeks soon and Geralt felt pleased to know that it was his doing. Also the cock in his mouth had grown hard quickly and that was his doing as well so yes, he was a _very_ good pet.

“You are so skilled with your mouth that I almost want to let you suck me off but, my cock still has other tasks for tonight so I must tell you to stop, my pet.”

Something almost like a _whine_ , escaped the witcher's mouth when Jaskier pulled his cock away.

“I know love, I know,” Jaskier said soothingly. He knew that at some point most of the people who were being mastered, got emotional and almost fragile and they easily thought that they were doing something wrong and not pleasing their master if the master wasn't careful or articulate enough. So Jaskier sang praises to Geralt, making sure that the witcher knew that his cocksucking had brought immense pleasure to the bard and him pulling away was in no way Geralt's fault.

When he rose from the bed to get something from his bag, Geralt said “Jaskier" in such a pleading voice that it made the bard's heart ache and he hurried to say: “I'm right here love, I'll be right back!” And then he was back and the witcher hummed pleased when Jaskier kissed him lovingly. The bard stroked Geralt's hard length and drew more sounds from the witcher, sounds that he would treasure in his heart forever. He leaned down to kiss the tip of Geralt's cock and the witcher arched so beautifully to his touch. Very slowly, he kissed his way down, down, until his lips touched the witcher's asshole. He studied carefully Geralt's face when he slowly, so slowly licked his rim. Geralt's nostrils were flaring and he was staring at Jaskier with a wild look on his face. Gods he looked gorgeous.

“I thought that tonight I would make you feel the same pleasure that you so often make me feel. But only if it's okay with you, my love.” Jaskier waited patiently for Geralt's answer.

“I like it.”

“You like what?” Jaskier asked, not teasingly but gently. He wanted to have a proper consent before continuing and thus eliminate any chance for a misunderstanding.

“I like-" Geralt licked his lips before continuing “being fucked in the ass. No one just ever offers, they're too afraid of me or something.”

The last bit was obviously meant as a joke but it actually came out with a little bit of hurt in Geralt's voice and Jaskier's heart ached.

“I'm not afraid of you,” he said softly and gods have mercy on his heart, Geralt genuinely smiled at him and said: “No you’re not,” with such emotion in those few words that Jaskier could have sworn it was in fact a declaration of love.

“So, may I continue?”

“Yes, _please_ ,” and that was all that Jaskier needed to hear.

Geralt was being opened and worshipped and he couldn’t do a thing about it. Surely the silk scarf that was pinning his hands above his head would have broken by now if it was going to, because Geralt was constantly straining against it. Of course he could say the word that they had agreed to being a sign for Jaskier to stop whatever he was doing but he didn't want the bard to stop. Oh, what filthy things that mouth was doing to him, kissing and licking and tongue-fucking his asshole. He was helpless under the bard's touch, and he absolutely fucking loved it. He tought how he must look, a mighty warrior, naked and bound to the headboard, sprawled across the bed, the beautiful bard beween his bottocks. It would be a sight to see for anyone who would come through the door that Geralt didn't remember them locking. If someone were to come here at this moment, Geralt wouldn't even care, he just wanted Jaskier to keep doing his magic on him. A hoarse moan got out of him at the mental image of that and he spread his legs wider to give the bard even better access. Jaskier murmured approvingly into his skin and Geralt moaned again.

Geralt moaning was the best sound Jaskier had heard in his entire life, even better than his own singing voice but that he would never admit to anyone. Under Jaskier's skillful tongue, the witcher's hole had beginned to loosen up a bit so it was time to move to the next step. He reached for a little bottle of lube that he had gotten from his bag and popped the cork open. Geralt's head snapped up at the sound of that and he watched as Jaskier slicked his fingers. Jaskier took his time, never breaking the eye contact with his witcher and Geralt, Jaskier would not have believed it had he not witnessed it himself, Geralt of freaking Rivia, the feared white wolf, wiggled his ass impatiently and Jaskier was not a man strong enough to deny him any longer of what he so clearly wanted.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he whispered lovingly as he pushed a first finger in, carefully and slowly. He had to let out a sigh at the feel of the tight heat around his finger. He could already imagine how it would feel around his-, no, now he was getting ahead of himself. He cast his focus back on Geralt, Geralt, who had his eyes closed and was biting his lip, probably trying to keep obscene sounds from coming out of him. Jaskier would have none of that.

“My dear pet, let me hear you.”

A low mixture of rumble and a moan sounded and Jaskier's cock twitched when he heard it.

“That's it my love, you're such a good pet, you’re so good to me.”

A whimper turned to grunt when Jaskier added a second finger and he stopped, not sure if the sound had been one of pleasure or pain.

“Everything okay, my love?”

The witcher's answer was wordless but clear. He thrust his hips so that Jaskier's fingers slid deeper into his hole.

“Oh I see how it is,” Jaskier chuckled and proceeded to fingerfuck the witcher's asshole good and proper, stretching him open patiently and thoroughly. When he added a third finger a very sincere “fuck!” was heard, accompanied by a very low grumble and when Jaskier looked at Geralt's face, he saw that his teeth were bared and his golden eyes were shining so wildly that someone might have mistaken Geralt for a great beast of the forest. But Jaskier knew that it was no beast under his hands but a man and he reached to lay soothing kisses on Geralt's abdomen and waited until the witcher stopped clenching his hole and only then he started to move his fingers. The witcher clenched again and Jaskier whispered soothing words to him, added more lube and tried again until Geralt finally relaxed into his touch. Jaskier felt his heart swell with emotion at the sight of the witcher trusting him this deeply. So deeply that he let Jaskier guide him through unpleasantness, trusting him to turn it into something pleasant. And when his three fingers finally slid in and out without restraint and Geralt was panting and shivering and moaning, Jaskier felt very proud of himself. He was almost tempted to make the witcher come like this, by just the touch of his fingers but actually, his own need was starting to literally throb and get unbearable. This night was about Geralt, Jaskier reminded himself and so he said:

“We can continue like this, just with my fingers if you want to, my love. Or we can-"

“Fuck. Me.”

Jaskier had to breath deep to get himself in control because that command, that was actually a concealed plea, went straight to his dick and he felt lightheaded for just a moment. Then he pulled his fingers out, very slowly, and reveled in the sight of Geralt trembling. He took the lube and smeared it generously on him and put some more on and in Geralt as well.

Jaskier almost wanted to pinch himself, just to make sure that this was real and not a dream. The man he loved and trusted, loved and trusted him right back, so much so that he let Jaskier see him vulnerable. He knew that Geralt did not trust easily, nor did he let his guard down around many people. And what a miracle it was to see him now, all his walls lowered down, laying there bare and beautiful, just for him, just for Jaskier. He climbed on top of Geralt and kissed him on the mouth gently. The witcher raised his head to meat him eagerly and tried to chase his lips when Jaskier broke the kiss to position himself between Geralt's thighs. Jaskier braced himself up on his arms so that he could see the witcher's face when he slowly, so slowly, started to slide his cock in. He watched in awe as a mangled sound, almost like a cry, left the witcher's mouth and his eyes rolled back before closing completely. And fuck, it was Jaskier's turn to curse because the feeling of being inside Geralt was almost enough to send him over the edge. He bit his lip so hard that he almost drew blood because there was no way in hell that Jaskier would come like a horny teenage boy and leave his partner hanging. No. Way. He was going to make this so, so good for Geralt because the man deserved it and coming apart just when they were barely getting started was not part of the plan. So he mustered all the will power that he could find and started to fuck his witcher with a slow pace.

Geralt felt as if he would break under the strenght of this feeling, his nerves on fire with pleasure that was so strong it was almost painful. He wanted to wrap his arms around the bard, to hold on to something, to anchor himself down in this sea of emotion but he couldn't because he was bound. So he did the only thing he could.

“Jas,” he said, his voice shaky. “Jas,” he repeated and Jaskier understood immediately, heard the plea in his voice and lowered himself so Geralt could hide his face in the crook of the bard's neck and Jaskier wrapped his arms around the witcher, steadying him, grounding him and said:

“I’ve got you, love, don't you worry, I’ve got you.”

And then Jaskier picked up the pace and Geralt let out sounds that he didn't know he could make and gods Jaskier felt good and _fuck_ he was close already and then he came, without a warning, biting down hard on Jaskier's neck.

Geralt gulped in air like he was drowning while Jaskier kissed his jaw, his cheeks, his forehead whispering: “You did so well my love. You are the best pet a master could hope for. I love you.”

Geralt's mind sang with happiness at the praises and he felt light and heavy at the same time, drowsy and awake. He opened his eyes and smiled at Jaskier who was straddling Geralt's lap and looking lovingly down at him. The bard seemed to be thinking something and Geralt, in his post-orgasm bliss, was completely happy to just lay there and wait.

And then something happened that Geralt was not prepared at all. The bard slipped two of his fingures in Geralt's asshole and coated his other hand with Geralt's come that was pooling on the witcher's stomach and then the bard closed his slick hand around Geralt's cock and started to pump. And Geralt truly thought that he didn't have any amount of stamina left in him but he was wrong, damn his mutated genes. His dick hardened and it was almost painful. If he had been sensitive before, _fuck_ , was he sensitive now.

“Oh look at you, you marvelous man. Becoming hard for your master so soon after climaxing, such a good pet you are,” Jaskier crooned with that sweet voice of his and aligned the dragging of his fingers and pumping of his wrist to a same, punishing rythm.

“Jas,” Geralt almost croaked because his voice was harsh from all the moaning and crying and cursing. “Jas, I can't, I can't,” he panted, his body so fucking sensitive and raw that he felt like he would burst.

“Just this one more time. Just one more. I promise love. Do you think you could come for me, just this one last time?” Jaskier said and to Geralt's own surprise he didn't say the word that would end it, no, instead he gave in to Jaskier's touch, to the sensation growing so big in his body that he tought it would break his bones.

“Jas, Jas, Jas,” he panted, over and over again like some magic spell that kept him from drowning. And Jaskier was there all the way, did not leave Geralt to sink on his own but instead used his voice as a lifeline that Geralt could hold on to.

“That's it my love. You’re doing so well. Just a bit more, I know you can do it. That's my good pet.”

Geralt's eyes were closed, his head thrown back, his brows scrunched not with worry but with effort, his legs were shaking, his breath coming in and out unevenly, his back arching from the bed and when Geralt thought he could no longer take this one moment longer, Jaskier whispered to his ear: “Come for me, my love,” sank his teeth into Geralt’s neck and Geralt came so hard that he saw black spots for a moment. He rode out his climax that seemed to go on for ages and then he went absolutely limp. A single tear rolled to his cheek and Jaskier kissed it away and whispered praises and sweet things to Geralt's ear, until the witcher's ragged breath calmed down. Then Jaskier unbound Geralt's hands, took them carefully between his own and gently massaged them and kissed the marks that the scarf had left on Geralt's pale skin. He climbed out of the bed and he instantly heard Geralt's hoarse and pleading voice calling for him.

“Just a moment, love,” he said and quickly cleaned himself up with a wascloth. Then he went to Geralt, cleaned him up as best as he could from come and sweat and saliva and lube and then he climbed back to bed. He was greeted with a low, happy grumble that came deep from Geralt's chest. Jaskier put his hands around Geralt and Geralt actually let Jaskier hold him. The witcher even nuzzled up closer and hid his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck, his breath tickling the bard's collarbones. And then he was asleep, just like that. Jaskier didn't even get a chance to ask him how Geralt was feeling and if he was okay. He made a mental note to himself to ask that first thing in the morning and then he as well, succumbed to sleep.

Morning came and usually Geralt was the first to wake but this time it was Jaskier. And he dared not to move at all, to not wake the beautiful man who was still soundly asleep in his arms, the man who looked so serene and peaceful in his sleep. Finally, not that Jaskier was complaining, he would have gladly spent the whole day guarding his witcher's sleep, Geralt stirred and awoke.

“Good morning, my love,” Jaskier said. Geralt hummed and kissed Jaskier softly on the lips.

“Good morning,” Geralt murmured and then they were silent for a long moment. Jaskier thought that he ought to ask now if Geralt had enjoyed himself yesterday and if he was feeling okay but he didn't get the chance because the witcher opened his mouth first.

“So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “when are we doing that again?” And he smirked so wickedly at Jaskier that Jaskier had to laugh and then he kissed Geralt and whispered to his ear:

“Whenever you ask me nicely _and_ on your knees.”


End file.
